


Make It Up As We Go Along

by dedougal



Series: Certain and Unsure [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Teen Wolf Reverse Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was not expecting to find a baby on the kitchen table at Derek's. Not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make It Up As We Go Along

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the first Teen Wolf Reverse Bang 12/13! It was a real pleasure to work with chosenfire28 who was so enthusiastic and sweet about everything. Triedunture deserves massive credit for a brilliant beta - anything else that doesn't make sense is all my fault. Hope you like!

Stiles wasn’t sure what he expected when Derek texted him to come over to his apartment. Blood. Guts. Gore. Maybe a soupcon of violence. A death threat. He did not expect a baby in a car seat sitting on the kitchen table.

At least it was asleep.

Derek was on the phone, pacing, as Stiles let himself in and stared at the bundled child in front of him. He was tempted to poke it to see if it was real. Poking would lead to crying and wailing and Stiles had no idea whatsoever to do with a real live baby. He hadn’t managed to keep his egg alive for health class. He’d used it to play hacky sack. Scott had sat on his egg, causing its destruction, something Scott was practically guaranteed to do from the minute the eggs were handed out. At least Stiles had been rather more complicit in the inevitable demise of his egg. Stiles wouldn’t play hacky sack with a baby, though.

The baby made some kind of weird noise and blinked its eyes open, fixing them on Stiles. Its eyes were a bright blue, heading towards green. A little like Derek’s. A horrible, horrible suggestion placed itself in Stiles’ mind while the kid stuffed its fist into its mouth. Stiles wasn’t quite sure if children were really supposed to do that so he kinda hovered, hoping it wouldn’t choke itself or anything.

Derek was still on the phone. Stiles could hear the low rumble of his voice through the thin walls. So, apparently, could the baby who was now craning its head in the direction of the voice. A squawking noise made its way past the now damp fist and Stiles dived in, hand outstretched to distract. “Hey, hey! I’m Stiles! Hey!”

The baby turned to him, grabbing at Stiles’ fingers like it didn’t know what they were. Stiles was more than happy to go with it, even when the kid dragged his hand towards its mouth to gum at his fingers. It wasn’t crying. It even made a little happy sound as it covered Stiles’ hand in spit. Stiles was desperately trying to think of something else to say that wasn’t, “So, how do you know Derek?” when the man in question came back into the tiny kitchen.

“Stiles.” Derek walked past him to throw the phone onto the counter and open the refrigerator. He hung in front of it, obviously searching for something.

“Derek,” Stiles mimicked his tone. Then, when Derek didn’t move from his attempt to freeze himself in front of the open refrigerator, he continued, “I’m fine, Stiles. I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for the baby on the kitchen table. It’s-”

“She.” Derek closed the door without taking anything out. “It’s a girl. She. Her name is Jennifer.” He leaned back against the counter. Stiles kinda wanted to go and hug him (it was a valid reaction. Pack reaction. Friend reaction. Honest), and totally would have if he had either the courage or a hand that wasn’t currently serving as a chew toy.

“That’s a pretty name. Did you give her it?” Stiles was attempting to be sneaky and underhanded and not say, “Why didn’t you tell us you were a baby daddy?” and so far it did seem to be going his way. Of course, if Derek decided to go into need-to-know mode, there was no accounting for what Stiles might ask.

“Laura. She’s… Laura was her mother.” Derek slammed his hand against the counter, claws sprouting and retracting as he flexed his hand. Stiles looked at the baby again – dark hair, eyes a little like Derek’s. He remembered the dead body he’d seen in that shallow grave. That was all he could think of when he heard the name Laura. He looked away from the kid, back towards Derek, to see him resettle his mask of arrogant alpha into place again. “I need you to watch her.”

“Why me?” Stiles had a moment of being pleased that Derek had asked and then a moment of sheer panic – what did he know about babies? – and then there was the whole but I’m not a big, tough, scary werewolf (and, yes, Erica was included in that. Stiles was sure Isaac would happily look after a kid, though). 

Derek came over, leaning close to Stiles as he rubbed a hand over the child’s hair. “I trust you.” It was low and almost sub-vocal, but Derek was so close, so hot beside him, that Stiles heard the words. “And all the others are busy.” That was probably the truth. Any elation Stiles had felt dissipated. 

“I don’t know how to look after a baby,” Stiles protested. Jennifer made a noise of disapproval at his suddenly raised voice and Stiles hushed her by rubbing his free hand over her baby soft hair, his fingers brushing against Derek’s. “

“I need-“ Derek swung away, grabbing a manila folder from the counter. “I have to go to the store. And I have to… Deaton will know about doctors, right?”

“Sure. But wouldn’t Scott’s mom be a better person to ask? No. Wait. Visiting her sister in Ohio.” Stiles watched the baby shift in her seat. “Where’s the baby been, Derek? Who’s been looking after her? What’s been going on?“ Derek stared at him a moment and Stiles could see the panic and the worry and he knew, right there and then, that Derek had just about as little clue about babies as he had. “Go. I’ll look after Jenny here.”

“Jennifer.” Derek was already on his way out of the door.

“What you don’t hear won’t harm you,” Stiles said to the baby, who raised her eyes to his again and made a gurgling sound. “I think you like being called Jenny.” Stiles made a funny face at her. “And we’ll find out all about where you came from when Uncle Derek comes home.”

***

New York had been a bit of a culture shock. Derek wasn’t a complete hick – they lived in California. He’d been to LA and San Francisco, thank you very much. He and Laura had visited all sorts of town and cities on their meandering way cross-country, picking up jobs here and there. There were just extra worries when it came to werewolves staying anywhere when pack territories needed to be taken into consideration. 

So maybe he hadn’t spent that much actual time in cities. One of the ways Kate had inveigled her way into his life, other than with her looks, had been with her tales of far-off places. She’d even been to Europe. During those mad, crazy, bittersweet months leading up to the fire, he’d spent hours listening to stories about countries and cities he could only dream of visiting one day. They’d planned- No, more accurately, he’d planned while Kate had smiled non-committally, parted her thighs and distracted him with fucking, while she’d been planning to burn him and his entire family alive.

New York was all the clichés at once. It had a thousand languages from a hundred countries, skyscraper canyons, Rockefeller Centre and Central Park. Every film and TV program he’d ever seen came to life on these streets. The Ghostbusters firehouse, the courthouse steps where Neri had murdered Barzini in the first Godfather. The whole city was a filmscape, a movie set. False, artificial, larger than life and, now, apparently home. Laura still looked over her shoulder, all the time, and she’d forced them to run here, guessing that hiding in amongst a near uncountable population was better than being the only two werewolves in the wilderness.

Derek liked the city in some ways. He liked the way he picked up work in a bar, flipping the caps off beer and pouring fingers of whiskey for old men, business types, people seeking a quiet space away from the buzz and constant noise of yellow cab horns. After work, the women and the workers descended, and the weekends were wall to wall, loud and hot and full of potential. He couldn’t take any of the interested parties he met back to the apartment he shared with Laura in Queens, but he became accustomed to working his way across the streets in the dim dawn light, dodging the early garbage trucks and delivery vans. 

Laura kept herself wound tight, her own affairs private. Derek smelled them occasionally, a strange man. Once, a strange wolf. That part of their lives, their release, was nothing to do with their lives as the final survivors of the Hale pack. Laura wasn’t a waitress here. She’d lucked into a job as a PA in one of the mirror reflective glass towers that intimidated Derek. He liked his dark and dingy cave of a bar. He could pass out the alcohol, listen to the anonymous confidences and slough it all off like a snake skin. Laura seemed to slip into this sharper world, speaking quicker and her footsteps clack-clacking louder. He didn’t know his sister then.

They were living separate lives. 

It took Derek three weeks to realize Laura was pregnant.

***

Stiles had regarded the baby girl with suspicion before realising he should probably get her out of the car seat.

“I guess I can’t google what to do with you,” he said, as he tried to work out the confusing tangle of straps around her middle. She was wearing one of those padded baby jackets which made her very soft and squishy. She didn’t complain too much as he finally popped the catch and eased her puffy arms out of the restraints. Stiles decided Jenny probably didn’t need the jacket either and unzipped it, lifting the baby out of the seat and jacket in one go. 

She was heavier than he’d expected. Stiles jiggled her and wasn’t too pleased when Jenny let out a piercing screech very close to his ear. He ended up just holding her close and she seemed to settle, wrapping one hand in his shirt. Stiles knew there were some rules about holding babies’ heads and it felt natural to support it so he brushed his hand over her soft dark curls.

Then Jennifer threw up on him.

It wasn’t a lot of puke and it was a slimy yellow colour but it smelled disgusting. Stiles gagged as the baby looked up at him. He wondered if she was actually smirking at him because she appeared to be happier now. “Okay, that was not cool.”

The kid let out a wet sound that Stiles chose to interpret as a rude raspberry. 

“Whatever. Okay. I really don’t want to go home in one of Derek’s shirts because my dad is the kind of person who notices these things. And he’ll know it’s not Scott’s because it isn’t luridly coloured. So you’re going to put up with a little Stilinski chest action and I can throw this in the wash. What do you say?” Stiles took the gurgle as an affirmative.

Derek’s apartment was pretty tiny. The kitchen and bathroom were both separate rooms but the door from the hallway opened straight into the only other room. During the pack meetings/bonding sessions/Friday evenings when no one had any money to go out on dates, they’d spent most of the time in the main room. Derek’s bed took up one corner and Stiles laid the baby right in the middle. She wouldn’t be able to roll and fall off it, like she might on the ratty couch in front of the TV over the other side of the room. Stiles peeled off his t-shirt in increments, desperate to keep his eyes on the kid at all times. She seemed quite happy, watching her hands dance in front of her in between watching Stiles as if to make sure he was paying attention. 

He was tempted to just dump the t-shirt and send Derek out to see if he had a spare shirt somewhere in the jeep. Although he was pretty positive that he’d cleaned all the junk out last time he was grounded and had nothing better to do (who knew you could only play video games for so long?) and that there was currently two empty cans of Red Bull and a handful of change in the center console. So he gathered up Jenny again and she settled against his bare skin like she belonged there. Stiles smiled at her and was greeted with another one of her moist gurgles. Still no tears.

“Guess you don’t take after Uncle Derek then.” Stiles made his way back to the kitchen and threw his t-shirt into the washing machine. It looked lonely. Derek’s laundry basket was spilling over beside it. “And apparently I’m going to do his laundry. Because looking after a baby just wasn’t emasculating enough.”

Jenny batted at his cheek with her hands, catching the lingering edge of the bruise Gerard Argent had left on his skin, and Stiles reckoned he probably had no dignity left to lose anyway.

***

Maybe Laura had been avoiding him, maybe Derek avoiding her. But at the end of the day, he should have realised something so momentous was happening with his sister. He came home from the bar, late like usual, the cologne from the twinky guy who thought his piercings and tattoos made up for his lack of any muscle mass clinging to his clothes and skin. He wanted to shower, he wanted to perhaps burn his clothes and, most of all, he wanted something to eat. He was almost to the kitchen space when he noticed Laura sitting in the dark on the sofa.

“Hey.” He kept his voice low, trying not to betray how much she’d startled him.

Laura was watching him. Her eyes were bright in the glow from the streetlights through the window. She didn’t say anything. Derek shrugged. He was almost to the fridge when her scent hit him. He sorted through the familiar notes, ignoring the acrid smell of car exhaust and too much money until it hit him. She was changed, she was different. He breathed in again.

Derek had been around his mother and his aunts and cousins often enough to recognize the change. He had to call up his anger to clamp down on all the things he was feeling – panic, concern, a certain amount of affection, anger of a different sort – to halt the change in its tracks. “How long?”

“We’ve been dating a few months. I- I didn’t expect. It wasn’t planned.” Laura didn’t sound like the big sister, the Alpha, the person who had taken charge and gotten them out of Beacon Hills and away from anyone who wanted to finish the job the fire had started. Laura sounded young, like the girl she’d been the day before the fire, planning college and prom and her whole life. Derek was the one who’d ruined that. And maybe if he’d more attentive, less caught up in trying to escape his own memories and more of a brother, more of a pack to her, she’d feel…happier? Maybe.

“Are you-?“ There wasn’t a polite way to ask if she was going to keep it. It wasn’t any of his business. Not really. “Whatever you want to do-“ Derek cut himself off and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator and cracked it open. He offered it to her, first, wonderingly.

Laura laughed at him, open and full and youthful. She took a few moments to calm down and Derek felt himself start to smile, although he wasn’t too sure of the joke. “I’m keeping the baby. It can- It might be the start of our new pack.”

Derek drank his water to try and hide his unease. He knew they needed more, a pack, family. He also knew the bone deep agony that came when a pack was lost. But he meant it. Whatever Laura wanted. “The father?”

“Isn’t one of us. Isn’t important.” Laura worried at her bottom lip for a moment and Derek decided enough was enough. He crossed the carpet in as few steps as it would take and ended up kneeling beside her, holding her close.

“I’m going to be an uncle,” he whispered into her hair.

“And I’m going to be a mom.” Laura shook for a moment and Derek smelled the familiar burn of smoke, for a moment, at that word. He handed over his water for lack of anything better to do. Derek cast around for words, for anything. He couldn’t promise everything would be fine or that they’d always be there. Life had taught him there were no certainties. Well. Maybe one.

“You’ll be a great mom,” he told her and she hugged him back.

***

It was some unidentifiable shift in the air that alerted him to Derek’s presence. That woke him, to be more precise. Jennifer had been yawning so hard that it seemed like her little mouth would break and Stiles decided it was probably time for a nap. And because Derek didn’t have a nice baby crib hidden in the two and a half rooms that made up his apartment and Stiles really didn’t want to stick Jenny back into her car seat, he’d used the bed, lying down with the baby nestled against his chest. She was warm and the bed was comfortable and Stiles had drifted off as well to the regular rattle of the washing machine.

Derek had been quiet coming back in. When Stiles looked over there was a lot of Walmart bags on the sofa. Derek was standing in the middle of the room just watching Jenny and, well, Stiles, since the baby was sprawled across his chest. His still-naked chest. Derek would just have to deal with that.

“Did the machine finish? Jenny didn’t like something she ate.” Stiles kept his voice low but he still felt the girl shifting. He ran a hand over the back of her shirt. Derek kept staring. Stiles was used to _that_ , just not when he hadn’t done anything. Stiles wracked his brains for a moment. He didn’t think he’d done anything. Definitely not since he’d been trusted to look after Derek’s niece. Normally Stiles would choose to flee at this point or, at least, try to find something else to hold Derek’s attention. But he didn’t dare shift and disturb Jenny.

Finally Derek turned away to start emptying things out of the bags – formula, bottles, clothes, diapers. Stiles half-hoped he wouldn’t have to take diaper duty but there was probably a snowball’s chance in hell of that. He was convinced that Derek’s wolves wouldn’t manage with their delicate noses. Stiles gently scooted up the bed until his head was propped on the pillows and he could watch Derek move about, putting things away. Jenny wriggled on his chest, one hand flailing out until Stiles caught it and had his fingers captured again.

Derek vanished into the kitchen and Stiles looked down at the little girl. He was feeling… possessive? That didn’t make sense. He was only here as a temporary babysitter. But since Scott had his summer job at the animal clinic with Isaac and Boyd and Erica were off doing Boyd and Erica things, Jackson was his usual douche self, off to some island in the Caribbean with his parents, and Lydia had pretty much vanished off the face of the earth along with Allison, Stiles had been feeling a little lonely. He wouldn’t mind being babysitter-in-charge for a little while.

He was so caught up in watching the way Jenny’s face shifted through a wide variety of expressions as she started to wake up that he missed Derek coming back to stand at the end of the bed. It took a soft cough for his attention to be grabbed again. 

“What?” Stiles couldn’t miss the wrinkle of Derek’s nose.

“She needs to be changed. And fed.” Derek held out his hands to lift Jenny off Stiles’ chest. Stiles held her tight for a moment, ignoring the feel of Derek’s fingers on his bare skin as well as he could. Then he let Derek take the weight of the baby and sat upright, scrubbing any remains of sleep from his eyes. Jennifer waved her hands at Derek, catching his nose with her tiny fist. Then she turned back to Stiles, reaching out and opening her mouth wide. This time it wasn’t to yawn, it was to screech. Stiles scrambled up, coming close to hold her hand again.

“Hey, baby! Let’s get some yummy food in you. Hey, hey!” Stiles pulled a face, wriggling his nose and making his eyes wide. Either the words, the sound of his voice or the silly expression made Jenny stop protesting. Derek looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to scold as he walked towards the kitchen, forcing Stiles to follow.

In a disgusting display of domesticity, Derek slid Jenny into her car seat and pulled the bottle of formula out of the spaceship-like contraption on the counter. He squirted a little onto his arm and shook his head. “I’m going to need your arm.”

“What? Why?” Stiles tried to tamp down his automatic suspicion that Derek wanted him to do something humiliating or painful.

“I need to test this. I don’t react to the heat in the same way. I could just squirt it onto your chest.” Stiles realised it was either offer up his poor arm or be sprayed with hot baby formula. Derek would catch one of his poor vulnerable nipples or something. He rolled his eyes but held out his arm. The milky liquid didn’t sting so he shrugged and Derek pointed the bottle in the direction of the baby. 

“You need to, you know, feed her.” Stiles watched in fascination as Derek shuffled closer, nearly holding the bottle out at arm’s length. Jenny was watching the no doubt familiar shape with just about the same amount of dedicated interest, her tiny mouth opening and closing as Derek managed to get the bottle to her.

Stiles pulled the wet clothing out of the washer and shoved it into the dryer as Derek let Jenny empty the bottle. Then it was time for the greatest challenge of all. The diaper. Stiles took his time reading the instructions on the back of the packet to try and delay the inevitable.

“Derek.” Stiles drew his name out as Derek tried pulling out clothes from a battered old backpack and holding them up to inspect. “I don’t think I know how to do this.”

Derek spun around. He wasn’t quite slipping into Alpha mode but his eyes were wide and shocked. 

“I think we need someone who’s done this before. I think we need an expert.” Stiles tried to keep his voice steady but he knew he was giving away just how bad an idea he was about to suggest.

“Scott’s mom? No. She’s visiting her sister. Who?” Derek put down the latest pink woolly confection. “No. Oh no.”

“Yes.” Stiles looked at Jenny who seemed to be concentrating really hard. “I think we need to tell my dad.”

***

Derek still couldn’t put his finger on when Laura and he had disconnected so thoroughly. After the fire, there had been the need to run and grieve and he’d been so consumed with guilt that he’d clung to Laura. They had even stayed in the same bed in the motels they ended up in, clinging to each other and trying to keep the nightmares at bay.

There had been long phone calls to sort out Peter’s care, to give statements, to organise the rest of their lives. Derek had been withdrawn from school and Laura had assumed all legal responsibility for him. It was just as well she was over eighteen – Peter wasn’t capable of assuming responsibility for anything. And Laura assumed another responsibility, her eyes flashing red at the next full moon and Derek was so happy to not be omega that he just accepted it.

Just as he accepted his guilt and the pain and the fact he needed to bury everything so deep he would never begin to heal the wounds Kate had opened. Laura was the only person he could ever trust. And when she’d stopped being his everything and forced him out to find a job, find anonymity, find something else in this terrifying and safe city… Well. It had felt like she was shoving him away too.

It probably didn’t help that he still hadn’t told her why the fire had happened, how he’d allowed it to happen. He would never forget her face as they were called into the principal’s office, shown to the sofa rather than the uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk, asked to sit, offered a drink, waiting in awkward unknowing silence for the Sheriff to break their world apart.

Laura had fastened on silent resolve as the Sheriff had asked, quietly and firmly, if she knew of anyone who might want to harm their family. Derek knew. He could have spoken out and watched their whole house of cards fall to the ground, all come tumbling down. Laura was strong. And now she needed Derek to be strong too.

Raising a cub required a whole pack. That was what his mother always used to say, laughing, as his cousins, his other sisters, all tumbled together, asking for snacks or toys or just to watch his mom be happy. There was something of that happiness in Laura, under all the worry and pain and anger. Something that smelled a little like freshly laundered sheets. 

She let him come to the doctor’s appointment, sit in the waiting room and hold her hand until they called her name. She didn’t let him in the exam room – that was a step too far – but he heard her heartbeat stay calm and steady and tried to ignore the inquisitive glances as he flicked through the decades-old copies of Cosmo. He listened hard as the doctor confirmed the pregnancy, filled in forms and something settled inside him. Something that was more than family. Something that was pack.

***

His dad wasn’t home, which Stiles was half-relieved about. He was right. They needed someone who had handled a baby and, being as every single one of the pack a) had no siblings and b) weren’t that much older than babies themselves, it made sense to ask his dad for help. Derek had tried to argue but he was also a little persuaded when Stiles promised that their house was probably a better place for a baby to be than an apartment block. Especially when his upstairs neighbor had stamped on the floor when Jenny began to cry at their arguing.

Stiles had dragged his still-wet t-shirt out of the dryer along with the rest of Derek’s laundry and dumped it into one of the empty Walmart bags. Then he’d looked pointedly between Derek and Derek’s chest of drawers until Derek got the message and grabbed a plain black t-shirt. It was not too big for him. It mostly fit across the shoulders but kinda hung around his waist. Derek’s eyes widened as Stiles pulled it on, almost like he was trying to avoid thinking something and failing. Stiles busied himself with grabbing up the other baby gear – clothes, bottle, food, the dreaded diapers.

Derek didn’t say a thing as he handed Jenny to Stiles and buckled the car seat into the back of his jeep.

“Guess the Camaro doesn’t work as a family car, huh? Need to trade it in for a SUV, huh, Soccer Wolf?” Stiles let his mouth run, but Derek didn’t react. Jenny seemed to like it, batting her hands at his fast-moving lips and not objecting when Stiles began to mock-bite them. She should probably get used to bitey people, being as that was basically all the people her uncle would talk to.

“No.” Derek didn’t quite jerk Jenny out of Stiles’ arms but it wasn’t far off. “Let’s go.”

 

Getting the lay of the land, Stiles ordered Derek to move the coffee table up against the entertainment center. Two birds, one stone – he hid all the wires from inquisitive baby hands and got sharp corners out of the way. The rug under the coffee table was probably in need of a vacuum so he directed Derek to the closet at the top of the stairs where the sheets and blankets were stored. Derek came back with a fluffy yellow one that Stiles knew his mom had used last but he didn’t say anything as Derek stretched it out, serious face firmly in place. His concentration on the simple task was kinda adorable.

Not that Derek was adorable. But when he cradled Jenny and lowered her to the blanket, rolling a bit of it up to support her head, something in Stiles melted. If he had ovaries, he’d perhaps say it was them. He made a mental note to watch some macho explosion-type movies soon or play some uber-violent video game to get his man card back. But at the moment, domesticity was the order of the day. Stiles loaded the clothes into the drier and organised the baby formula and the two jars of strained fruits on the counter just in case. 

Jenny was making cute noises when Stiles ducked his head back into the living room, rolling about and waving at Derek, who seemed intent on her.

“Need anything?” Stiles had been a little remiss as a host.

Derek looked guilty, as if Stiles had caught him doing something naughty. His eyes widened as he watched Stiles then he nodded, still shamefaced. “I didn’t get any lunch, or breakfast, or dinner last night.”

Stiles shook his head as he headed back to the kitchen. How the hell Derek would look after a baby when he couldn’t feed himself was beyond imagining.

 

Derek was halfway through his enormous bowl of cereal when Stiles’ dad’s key turned in the lock. Stiles had to grab at Derek’s ankle to keep him in place on the sofa as his dad came into the room and looked at them. Jenny was sitting up against Stiles’ thigh in the vee of his legs and playing with her newest toy, his hand. His dad’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed and cleared. His mouth opened. Then closed.

“So this is Derek’s niece, Dad. Her name’s Jenny – Jennifer.” Stiles said the words slowly and clearly, perhaps emphasising niece a little too much.

“Laura Hale’s…?” His dad was obviously working it out.

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Stiles looked down at the baby, buying himself some time to think. His dad was way cooler about this than he’d expected. “Do you remember how to change a diaper?”

“Uh huh.” His dad let out a long suffering sigh. Stiles was aware he’d probably need to give some more explanation before his dad was happy. Like a whole lot. Up to and including why he was the one helping Derek with his niece. “That’s not your shirt, son.”

Oh. And explain that too.

***

Working in a bar left plenty of time for doctor’s appointments during the day. Derek came to be on nodding acquaintance with the other women in the too-small and dated room, all puke green walls and cracked leather seats. He’d also learned to stick a paperback in his pocket because they were always running late and there was only so many times he could pretend interest in a years’ old magazine and not go crazy.

There were other changes.

Their refrigerator started having a greater proportion of vegetables to red meat. There wasn’t any actual coffee in the apartment, just decaf. Laura still worked as hard as ever, still didn’t see Derek in the evening before he headed out to start his shift, but Derek knew he’d changed. He wasn’t stumbling in just as dawn broke, body covered in a stranger’s sweat. His boss noticed the change, commenting that they might get more repeat customers now that Derek wasn’t working his way through every single person in the city anymore.

He didn’t bare his teeth – or his other teeth – at her. Instead he peeled off his shirt and stuck it in one of his back pockets and stuck all the increased tips in the other, finally giving into the exhortations to make his looks pay. He started thinking of his tips as baby money: money for toys, clothes, cribs, college. He was contributing to his pack again.

Laura was crying when he came in.

Derek hesitated. He hadn’t heard Laura cry in a very, very long time. She’d been the strong one. He took a deep breath, drank in her sorrow, then pushed open the door to her room with a soft knock. She didn’t even bother to hide her tears. “Hey, thought you’d be later.”

“Clean-up didn’t take too long.” Derek sat on the edge of her bed then bent to unlace his boots. Laura sat up, duvet clutched tight as Derek peeled off his jacket and dumped the keys out of his pockets. Then he crawled onto the bed, putting his head on the sheets beside the now-noticeable bump of her belly. He lay his hand on her leg while Laura’s hand twined in his hair. They laid like that, breathing in each other, the quiet peaceful rather than awkward. Even the city outside seemed quieter for once.

Eventually Laura spoke. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Derek snorted out a laugh. “More than I do.”

“I’m only two years older than you.” Her voice was wondering rather than joking. This was obviously something that had been playing on her mind.

“Almost three,” Derek felt honor-bound to remind her. It had been a running joke when they were kids, something he used to say to try and persuade his mom to let him do things because Laura was. Then their refrains were reversed. “You’ve looked after us both. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Laura shuffled down on the bed, lying back on her pillow and facing Derek. Their voices dropped to whispers.

“That you had to.” Derek could see that Laura was still close to crying, tears gathering again. “It was my fault.” It felt good to finally say.

“How was it? You were in school. It was hunters.” Laura still had her hand in Derek’s hair. He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore, looking down. It had been six years but it still hurt every damn day. It was all his fault that they were here in this crappy apartment and not safe and warm at home, surrounded by family and friends. Laura’s baby would have had a whole platoon of aunts and uncles, real, honorary. Derek felt their absence like a hole in his heart.

“I knew. Not what she’d do. I couldn’t tell. But I knew.” Derek’s words wouldn’t have been heard by anyone with normal hearing, soft, low and so ashamed. “Kate and me…”

“Kate Argent?” Laura kept her voice soft, although some coldness had begun to creep in. “You knew her? She was older than us. Peter’s age. Older.”

“I didn’t just know her.” Derek couldn’t help it. It was as if the words were pushing out. “She knew about us, knew what we were. She…” What could he say? ‘Seduced’ was from some ridiculous romance novel. ‘Fucked’ was too brutal to say. “We slept together.”

“Oldest trick in the book,” Laura said. She didn’t sound cold or angry, she didn’t sound much of anything. “Makes sense.”

Derek didn’t ask what made sense. All he had in front of his eyes was the memory of smoke hanging in the air of the room that he’d once called his, funeral after funeral, questions to be answered. He’d swore he’d seen Kate smiling mockingly at the back of the crowd but she’d gone by the time he raised his head again. The memories were so fresh and yet there was starting to be a fog over the ones that mattered. His dad showing him how to shift, his mom making him do his homework. Dance recitals and all the stuff he’d suffered through as a dutiful brother. 

He couldn’t admit any more to Laura. Couldn’t say anything else. But just before he was ready to push himself off the bed, go to his own cold bed, he heard a soft thud. Then he heard it again. Another heartbeat. He listened carefully – it was faint – until he realised where it was coming from. “I can hear it. The baby.”

Laura shifted on the bed and finally Derek met her eyes again. “I’ve been hearing it for a few days.”

“I’m sorry.” Derek said, whether about not hearing the heartbeat or everything he’d confessed he wasn’t sure. Laura’s face twisted into something approximating a grin. Derek nodded, pushing himself off the bed and gathering his stuff. Laura needed to get back to sleep.

He listened to the faint double thud from the other room while he fell asleep.

***

Changing diapers was one of the things Stiles decided must come under the heading of hazardous. The stench alone! He was a big boy, he could handle it. He’d been in life threatening danger and faced it with more equanimity than he was currently managing as his dad cooed to Jenny and unpeeled the tape on the side of the diaper she was wearing at the same time.

Jenny seemed fascinated by his dad, reaching her hands up to grab at his cheeks and responding to his coos with noises of her own and huge beaming smiles. Derek was frowning at the side, looking as horrified as Stiles was feeling.

“You have to take off the stinky one, right?” His dad had also regressed to baby talk. “And then wipe clean-“ Derek handed over the packet of wipes. Stiles took them out of his dad’s hand and opened them, handing him a couple. His dad gave Derek a patented “what an idiot” Stilinski glare as he snapped his hand towards Stiles again. “Then you stick it all in a diaper bag.” That took a little bit of finding, but Stiles found them and let his dad dump all of the stinking mess into it. Stiles took off for the back door and the garbage can. “Okay, son-“ Stiles had to check as he was pushing the door open, but it appeared his dad was talking to Derek now. He didn’t hear the rest as he sprinted for the side of the garage. Then he was back as his dad was snapping the fastenings of the onesie around Jenny.

“Easy enough?” Stiles asked Derek, whose eyebrows pulled down into a promise of violence later. Maybe a little wall slamming. He wiped the look off his face as Stiles’ dad looked at him and nodded.

“Practice,” his dad said. “You have to practice.” His dad lifted Jenny up and shook her from side to side, smiling at her giggles. “Who’s a happy girl?”

 

Stiles took charge of clean-up while his dad showed Derek through to through to the living room, Derek reclaiming his niece as he sat down. He dumped the towel off the table in the washer and came through just in time to see his dad set his coffee down and fix Derek with what was known as the Sheriff stare. 

Stiles laughed at how Derek suddenly looked smaller. He’d been immune to the Sheriff stare since he was eleven. What he wasn’t immune to was the way Jenny wriggled in Derek’s grip and reached out to Stiles. He’d been aiming for the other armchair but rethought his trajectory and came to sit next to Derek on the sofa. Probably a little too close given the look his dad shot him. He needed to be close to reassure the baby.

That was all.

Derek’s thigh didn’t feel really good pressed up against his or anything.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t even think language like that around the baby.

“So your sister was murdered around six months ago…?” His dad leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. His fingers twitched. Stiles reckoned he probably wished he had a notebook.

“She left Jennifer with some friends. And me. And then I had to come here.” Derek kept his answers short. “Her friends called yesterday. They said Jenny needed her family.”

Stiles wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t sitting so close, but Derek hesitated over the words friends. Just a little. There was obviously something else going on there. He didn’t press – he could ask Derek later. His dad made a face like he’d picked up on something strange.

“And Stiles? Where do you fit into this?” That was another story. How much to say? He hated leaving his dad in the dark but there were some things that were probably not his to say. He looked at Derek who was maintaining a kind of blank panic.

“We’re friends,” he said. That was true. To an extent.

“Friends who wear each other’s clothes?” His dad really wasn’t letting that one go and that really was completely innocent.

“Jenny threw up on me. I had to change. At Derek’s.” Stiles shrugged. Thinking about that, it was probably time Jenny had some more food. She looked happy enough though, one hand in Stiles’s and the other pushing up Derek’s nose.

His dad hummed. Then he unfolded his arms and reached for the coffee again. “And you spend a lot of time at Derek’s?”

“Not…massively?” Stiles had been there a few times. Pack meetings. The apartment was better than the rail yard, especially after he’d driven his jeep through the wall. And it had a TV. And they’d maybe hung around and watched shit. It was only a few times a week. His dad’s lips developed a white line around them that normally meant bad shit was about to hit the fan. “Dinner?”

“What?” Both Derek and his dad turned to him at the slight jump in topic.

“Jenny needs food. We need food. So. Dinner.” Stiles was already on his feet (missing the warmth of Derek along his side. Ah. Fuck fuck fuck) and heading for the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” his dad offered, following Stiles through. Great. More awkward questions that Derek would hear perfectly well.

His dad waited until he’d pulled out the jar of sauce from the cupboard and was reaching for the pan. 

“Stiles, how well do you know Derek Hale?” He kept his voice low but Stiles winced. Derek would be able to hear every word clearly. “Is he… pressuring you?”

“We’re not dating. We’re-“ Stiles took a deep breath. “First, I’m me. Why would Derek want me? Second, have you seen him?” That was possibly a little off tack. “He’s…just a friend. He needs friends. He doesn’t have many.”

“You’re smart enough to know how it looks, Stiles.” His dad was all understanding eyes and caring and Stiles knew this interrogatory technique for what it was. He still melted. He hated lying to his dad.

“Sheriff Stilinski,” Derek said from behind them. He was still holding Jenny. He looked down at her, seemingly surprised to see her there. Then he held her out to Stiles. Stiles took her, silently pleased at the way her hands curled in his (Derek’s) t-shirt. Then he watched in amazement as Derek shook his head and changed, right in front of them, the whole 9 yards, eyes, fangs and sideburns. “There’s something we have to tell you.”

Jenny squawked in delight at her uncle but his dad looked pale. Too pale. He stumbled backwards and Derek jumped to catch him, shifting back to normal.

So. More awkward questions.

***

Derek wasn’t sure why Laura thought they needed more help but he came home from the store, arms full of brown bags, to find a strange Alpha sitting in their tiny main room, drinking coffee. He shuffled from foot to foot, caught off guard.

Laura put her cup of decaf down as if she was going to get to her feet but Derek shook his head and headed for the kitchen part of the room. He busied himself putting the food away as Laura continued to talk. “We’re thinking of moving out of the city. Once the baby is born.”

“Cities are no place for kids. We have a farm upstate.” The invitation was plain. Derek eyed the woman who completely ignored him. He hoped they didn’t have to go live with her. She was older than their mother would have been and shorter than both of them. But she wore her power like a cloak. It sent chills up Derek’s back. Half of him wanted to roll over and offer her his belly whilst the other half wanted to stand beside Laura and challenge her. His sister wasn’t revealing much, just humming placidly and sipping at her drink some more. 

Derek couldn’t leave the room but he was still deeply uncomfortable. In the end, he grabbed a book from his room as quickly as possible and slid into a seat at their battered table. Laura sighed at him after the strange Alpha had left. “Anyone would think you were raised by wolves.” It was an old joke and never stopped hurting and being funny in equal measure.

“You should go join them. They’d be good for you.” Derek dug his finger into a groove in the table, thinking it through. Big packs, established packs (safe packs) could sustain more than one Alpha and Laura would fit right in. He didn’t want to look at his sister. He wondered if this was the moment she would finally step away from him, abandon him like he deserved. He would manage as an Omega, for a while at least. That was easier in the city – fewer hunters, more people to hide amongst – but eventually the loneliness would drive him mad and he’d be cut in half. He was even vaguely accepting of that fate.

“Too intense,” Laura grinned. “I’m not that kind of Alpha. She bites.”

“You’d bite. If it mattered.” Derek prodded at the groove again. 

Laura shrugged. “They knew Mom and Dad and maybe it’s time to speak to other wolves, Derek. We need other people. You need other people. There’s something weird happening back in Beacon Hills and I think we might need backup.” 

That was the first time she’d mentioned their hometown in quite some time. Derek’s head jerked up and he eyed her warily. She had the grace to look a little guilty before she handed over some print-outs from her office. “I have alerts set up.”

Derek flicked through the pages. Mysterious animal attacks weren’t always a sign that some werewolf had gone rogue. But the markings on the blurry photo of the deer were unmistakeable. “Vengeance spiral?”

Laura nodded. “It might be coincidence but-“

“You don’t think so.” Derek watched as Laura pushed herself up out the chair. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by jumping to her aid but she was starting to get so big and it seemed to be slowing her down. She only had a few more weeks at work. “You think it’s connected.”

“There’s been nothing for so long. I don’t want anyone moving in on Hale territory.” Laura tapped her hand on the table. “After the baby is born…”

“You’re gonna go back.” Derek wished he could be surprised. He also wished he could tell Laura to go join the pack upstate. He wished he could tell her to forget Beacon Hills and accept that they’d given up on it as pack territory when they’d run out of town and not looked back. But his sister wouldn’t listen to that kind of thinking. And, buried deep down, Derek knew that part of him would always consider Beacon Hills to be his home no matter how far they ran or where they attempted to put down new roots. He had blood and bone buried deep back there and that was the oldest connection there was.

Blood and bone. Nothing else really mattered.

***

Stiles’ dad ended up holding the baby while Stiles cooked. He went for pasta because that required no attention and very little chopping. It was disgustingly domestic. Or, well, it would have been if it hadn't been for the heavy silence in the room. His dad was glaring at Derek, unsure and taking refuge in anger. Derek was maintaining a blank face and Stiles tried making as much noise as he could with the pans.

Jenny gurgled through it all.

In an attempt to distract him, Stiles handed his dad one of the jars of strained fruit Derek had bought but his dad couldn't open it. He looked rather put out when Derek stretched out his hand to take it and Derek popped the lid with not a single bit of effort and handed it back. Then they both watched as the baby seemed to enjoy smearing as much of the yellow paste across her cheeks as swallowing it. She flailed her hands, making squeals when the spoon took too long in getting to her mouth.

The normality of it all softened his dad's fury and his fear. "So that's been your big secret, Stiles."

Stiles nodded. He opened his mouth, suddenly unsure of what to say. Derek swallowed.

"I didn't... I didn't make Scott a werewolf." Derek played with the placemat in front of him. 

His dad took another deep breath but kept feeding Jenny pretty steadily. "And Stiles isn't a werewolf...?"

"I'm not, Dad. I said no to the bite." Stiles turned the stove down and grabbed plates from the cabinet.

"To Derek?" His dad's eyes were hard again and his hand was holding on to the spoon a little too tightly judging by his white knuckles.

Stiles looked at Derek and was unsurprised to seem him scowl and his eyebrows pull into a v-shape. Stiles shook his head. Honesty was the best policy here. "To...Peter Hale. Derek's uncle? Also a werewolf." 

His dad seemed to relax again, mulling it over. Stiles pulled out the fixings for a salad and was surprised when Derek came over to help him. It wasn't like they hadn't done this before - although it tended to be putting take out onto plates - but there was an ease here, a weird comfort in having Derek cook with him. The silence returned, broken by Jenny’s noises and his dad’s whispered reassurances to her as she sat in his lap. It made Stiles remember why he was an only child again and that old familiar ache was back.

 

They moved the world of awkward back to the living room after they’d eaten. Jenny sprawled on Stiles’ lap and belly and fell asleep. She was a solid warm blob, heavier now she wasn’t supporting her own weight at all. Stiles very carefully didn’t move. He was still a little freaked out by how easily he’d gone from ‘ahhhh, a baby!’ to letting himself be used as a pillow. His dad’s ability to look after her didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Stiles knew it wasn’t cool to think but he was still pretty sure his dad could do anything. Derek still seemed to be freaking out but he wasn’t wearing his claws anymore, so Stiles wasn’t entirely worried about his dad or the baby.

The baby. How the hell did hunters and killer lizards and Alpha packs and everything fit with a baby? “So. What’s going to happen next?”

“Next?” Derek jerked his eyes up from the baby to Stiles.

“Is Jenny staying? Is she here for a visit? Do you…have anyone else? To look after her?” There was a point when he was speaking that Stiles realized just how very very indelicate he was being and how close he was to having his spine ripped out or something but he just kept going.

“She’s…” Derek shook her head. “She’s my responsibility. And a werewolf. I couldn’t expect anyone else to look after her.”

Silence fell after that. 

“I should get back to the apartment.” Derek, in his grey wifebeater and way too tight jeans, looked completely out of place on the sofa. Stiles thought Derek suited the apartment much like it had suited the train depot and the burned down remains of the Hale house. It screamed single and unattached and living out of a suitcase. Tough. Ready to fight or flee. It didn’t exactly go with the baby using Stiles as a pillow.

His dad had moved onto two fingers of Jack Daniels as he continued to alternate between watching Derek, Stiles, the baby and the blank screen of the TV. When Derek spoke, his eyes shot up. The Sherriff shook his head wryly as he told them, “Apartments and babies don’t mix. Trust me on that one.”

Stiles wondered if there was a story there. As far as he could remember, they’d always lived in this house. His closet still had the height marks carved in the doorway to prove it. He made a questioning sound. “Noise complaints, Stiles. Not you.”

“Right. So.” Jenny made a sleepy mew of complaint and Stiles subsided. There was an idea percolating through his thoughts but it was the sort of thought that really needed his dad to voice. His dad just took another drink. 

“I should go.” Derek stood up and Stiles noticed the grime on his wifebeater. The guy really couldn’t be trusted to look after himself let alone a baby.

“Your laundry is still in the dryer.” Stiles ran his hands down the baby’s back. Derek’s eyebrows drew together and then eased as Stiles’ dad coughed. It was the sort of cough that meant he was trying to hide a laugh.

Then his dad let out one of his usual groans. “Okay. I’ll go make up the guest room. And then Derek can help me in the attic.” He pushed himself to his feet, popping another button on his shirt.

“What?” Stiles and Derek both said it at the same time.

“I think your old crib is still up there, Stiles. Derek can help me put it together. While you change the kid.” Stiles looked down to see Jenny scrunch her nose up and then settle into the most blissful, peaceful smile.

Stiles was so caught up in being disgusted and trying to remember all the steps from earlier that he missed his dad towing Derek out of the room. Then his brain caught up. Basically, his dad had asked Derek to move in with them. With Jenny. For some reason. And he’d been left with the baby. While Derek and his dad did man things.

This totally made him the girl in this scenario.

***

Derek was at work when his phone buzzed. He’d taken to keeping it on him rather than the mandated back room as Laura’s due date approached. There was something nagging at him, a low, annoying buzz at the back of his brain that told him that something was bound to go wrong, that this had all been too smooth. The frequency of incidents in Beacon Hills had increased as well. Something was wrong. Something bad was going to happen.

When he looked at his phone and read the text, he nearly smashed his head against the bar, trying to grab his coat and arrange to leave and do everything all at once.

 

The hospital was sharp, astringent disinfectant and sickness choking him, even here in the maternity ward. It was noise, constant beeping, crying from babies and mothers alike. He could hear Laura’s heartbeat, steady and rhythmic, with the baby’s heartbeat underlying hers. He followed it along the corridor, obviously passing as an anxious father. No one stopped him at any rate. He sped up as he came closer to Laura, holding short of full out running. Just short. He skidded to a stop outside her door. 

It didn’t seem like anyone was in distress. Laura was sitting up in bed, back supported by a pile of pillows. She had a couple of bleeping machines in the room but otherwise it was an oasis of calm. “The baby?” Derek let out his worry on a whine. Almost a whine.

“Coming. These things take time.” Laura looked absolutely calm except for the tightening around her eyes. Derek came to stand next to her. He hovered, uncomfortable for a moment, before Laura rolled her eyes and stretched out her hand and grabbed Derek’s. She squeezed, almost tight enough to break a few bones and then let him drag a chair over to sit beside her bed. She kept hold of his hand.

 

Derek ended up outside the room when the baby really decided to make its appearance. There was a line of chairs in the hallway and he wasn’t alone. He did seem to be the only one waiting without some kind of cuddly toy. When the sound of Laura’s cries got a little too much and he needed to either break down the door or punch one of the nurses who wouldn’t tell him anything, he ended up pounding down the emergency stairs to the gift shop and grabbing a rather sad looking rabbit. It appealed to some sense of irony. The baby would be chasing rabbits soon enough. It should get used to them.

When he arrived back at Laura’s room, it turned out that it was a girl. He had a niece.

They had a pack again.

***

After the attic raid, Derek left the baby with the Sheriff and Stiles drove them back to Derek’s apartment to collect more baby stuff. Stiles found it hard to say what he wanted to say. He didn’t have that problem all that often. Words, glib and gibbering, just peeled out of his mouth at a thousand miles a minute. He even used it to cover up when he felt, you know, scared for his life.

He couldn’t think how to ask Derek the question that was pressing at him. So silence. So awkward.

They sat in the Jeep in the darkening parking lot, watching the street lights come on. 

“Laura said it was her duty. She said she wanted to make sure there weren’t any Argents sniffing around. She wanted to make sure Beacon Hills was safe. She said her duty as an Alpha came before anything else. That’s why she left Jennifer.” Derek spoke to the windscreen rather than face Stiles. His voice was quiet and terrifyingly controlled.

“With you? Or with who?” Stiles prompted. That was the other question on his mind.

“With a pack in upstate New York. They didn’t expect her to… be away so long.” Derek opened the door and climbed out. Stiles followed, silent again. He couldn’t imagine his mom leaving him like that. He still had nightmares, sometimes, that he’d wake up and his dad would be gone and he’d be alone and that sent cold chills through him.

He’d thought about Derek being alone. But that kind of thinking tended to lead to Stiles mentally criticising his choice of Betas or thinking about how he, Stiles, could perhaps make Derek a little less alone. Which led to him having some very, very happy thoughts. Like right now, as he watched Derek climb the stairs in front of him. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about Derek’s ass. But. The point. He was going to have readjust quite a lot of his thinking because Derek wasn’t alone. He was a parent. 

Derek was actually a parent.

Proof that life was a giant joke, really. Because Derek was… No. Derek would be a good dad. Overprotective, but that was nothing unusual around Beacon Hills. He’d be able to scare all the other parents.

Stiles grabbed one of the bags and started loading some of the multitude of pink fluffy things that little girls seemed to travel with. He looked over his shoulder when he realised he was the only one packing.

Derek was standing with a soft stuffed rabbit in his hands. He was staring at it, frozen in place. 

“Found something you like?” Stiles wandered over to get a closer look. It didn’t look anything special. Just the kind of thing you got from a gift shop, “new baby” emblazoned across its belly. 

“I…” Derek looked up, his eyes flashing red. His chest heaved as he got it under control again. “I gave her this.”

“That’s cute. It looks well loved.” Stiles picked up a floppy ear where the fur was worn, possibly by a small mouth sucking on it. Derek was suddenly really close, much closer than he’d been a moment ago. His body was warm along Stiles’ side as he pressed in, nose hovering in the region of Stiles’ neck. “Uh, dude…”

“You smell like her.” Derek’s voice was kinda muffled. Stiles really hoped he wasn’t about to have his arm ripped out of its socket and brought it up to run over Derek’s shoulder. He was more than mildly shocked when Derek collapsed against him and Stiles needed both hands to hold him up, half in support and half in…well…an embrace.

He was totally hugging Derek Hale. Fuck. He’d kinda hoped they’d be shirtless and, you know, making out when this happened.

Derek ran his nose up Stiles’ neck again, this time closer to his ear. Stiles tried to ignore the hands now holding him in place, hard and firm on his hips. He tried to ignore Derek’s mouth getting closer and closer to his own. “Smell like Jenny? I’d think so. Been holding her all day, man. Derek. Derek?” That last was high-pitched as Derek ran his lips over the curve of Stiles’ jaw.

“You smell like Laura and me and pack and home.” The words sounded reluctant, like Derek didn’t want to name them. He pulled back from Stiles, leaving enough space between them that Stiles was able to see that he’d returned to normal. No flashy eyes or big scary teeth. Stiles puzzled it over in his head for a moment and then shrugged. He was best going with his instincts on this. Probably. Hopefully.

“That’s okay, man. I like that.” Stiles tried to be all casual but he was probably a little too intent with the way he was staring at Derek to judge his reaction. Derek was watching him, face frozen on serious and intent like usual. He didn’t have anger in the mix. He looked almost surprised. Stiles could almost hear the cogs whirring away as Derek looked at him. Then Derek was closing the space between them, throwing the toy away to land on the pile of clothes. He stopped when he was so close Stiles could feel his eyes crossing trying to keep an eye on him.

“Is this… Can I kiss you?” Derek looked worried that Stiles would say no. No chance of that.

Stiles closed the distance and fitted his mouth over Derek’s. The response was instantaneous. Derek’s hands fitted themselves around Stiles’ back, holding him close. Stiles grabbed on too, unwilling to let Derek go as their lips parted and Stiles ran his tongue over Derek’s teeth, feeling rather than hearing the groan that wracked him. Stiles was already reacting to the kiss, his heart beating faster and his skin feeling too tight, too much, as Derek ran his hands up and down his back, shifting until Stiles could feel the hard press of Derek’s cock against his own.

He never wanted to stop kissing Derek.

In the end, Stiles was the one who walked them, carefully, backwards, until he fell onto the bed, pulling Derek down with him. Then it became a frenzy of pulled clothing and seams ripping and buttons being too complicated to use. Stiles couldn’t hold back the moan he let out when Derek brushed his knuckles across his cock, pausing to grab at Derek and kiss him, deep and hard, for a long, long moment. 

Then they were both gloriously naked (or naked enough. Stiles had his socks on and his boxers were tangled around one ankle. Derek was similarly encumbered) and Stiles rocked his hips up to meet the undulation of Derek’s body. Hands, blunt human fingers raising red marks, scored up and down each other’s back as Stiles felt himself draw closer and closer to the edge. Derek buried his mouth in Stiles’s neck, trying for control, blunt teeth pressing into Stiles, scraping and tugging in a way that seemed to have an electric connection to his cock. They were beyond stopping, beyond stepping back. It was hotter than sin and Stiles was basically breathing into Derek’s mouth as they tried to kiss again. He got a hand wrapped around Derek’s cock and started pulling, adjusting really happily and really quickly to the different angle. Derek was equally quick at jacking Stiles’ cock, hard and fast and with this twist that made Stiles rear up, too near the edge.

He forced his eyes open and was caught by Derek’s eyes, totally focused on him. It wasn’t going to last much longer but Stiles tried to keep his eyes open as long as he could, unable (and unwilling) to escape the intensity of Derek’s gaze. He couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering shut as he came. Derek followed him, moments later, mouthing at Stiles’ neck again.

Stiles floated in a nice little haze, letting his breathing settle and his heartbeat return to normal. He was quite enjoying the feel of Derek on him and around him and it was just right. Fitting. Good. He deserved a little good.

“Shit!” Stiles blurted out, shoving Derek off him and running to the bathroom, almost tripping over his boxers. Blooming, gloriously, very obviously on his neck was a love bite. His dad was going to kill him.

***

Derek felt it when Laura died. He didn’t need the voicemail from a voice he didn’t recognise that was left on his phone. He’d been in the city, trying to finish packing up the last of their apartment. Even if Laura didn’t find what she was looking for in Beacon Hills, they were done in New York. It was time to move on and start new again. Somewhere more suitable.

She had only been gone a day, hopped an early morning flight the day before. She was due back tomorrow. They’d argued before she’d gone, mainly about the fact she was leaving Jennifer with the upstate Alpha and her pack rather than Derek and about the fact she wasn’t letting Derek come along

Derek had dropped the keys through his landlord’s mailbox, left the rest of Jennifer’s things at the upstate farm of the Alpha who was looking after her and started driving west. Beacon Hills was dangerous and no place for a baby. He’d come back as soon as he was able. As soon as he’d laid his ghosts to rest.

***

Stiles’ dad had looked wide around the eyes when they stumbled back but he didn’t say anything. The baby was fast asleep on the rug in front of the sofa and his dad had paperwork spread next to him. He had indulged in a long, heartfelt sigh.

Stiles shrugged. Then his dad had shook his head, a sly grin on his face. 

Stiles gave his dad a long and hard look before he realised he should be more grateful to the guy for not making this anymore awkward than it already was. His dad chuckled softly as he pushed off the sofa. “Time for bed. Separate beds. The guest room is yours, Derek.” He poked the side of Stiles’ neck as he passed, catching the end of the hickey. “And remember, I can hear all the footsteps that go past my door.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek replied before Stiles could get his mouth to work. His father continued to laugh to himself as he climbed the stairs as quietly as he could. Stiles went to sit on the sofa and sulk, although that was soon alleviated when he went back to watching Jenny. He also didn’t object to the way Derek slung an arm over him and pulled him close.

Everything else could wait until tomorrow.


End file.
